


Broken In

by Unusual_Raccoon



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arrow (TV 2012) Season 6, Complicated Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied Relationships, Implied Ricardo Diaz/Earth-2 Laurel Lance, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Smut, Vaginal Sex, ost: SYML - Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29251641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unusual_Raccoon/pseuds/Unusual_Raccoon
Summary: The sequel to Rabid"Oliver knew they would end up here again, seeking one another out under the cover of darkness, hungry wild things with appetites for each other, he just never thought it would be like this…"Black Siren pays Oliver another visit, but he's ready this time.
Relationships: Earth-2 Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen
Comments: 11
Kudos: 8





	Broken In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lostinthearrowverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthearrowverse/gifts).



> This is in fact a sequel to Rabid. This is dedicated to lostinthearrowverse who requested a sequel, so here it is. Hope you like it!
> 
> Yes, I did tag Diaz and Laurel, but just a disclaimer, it is not a happy or healthy relationship in the slightest. It is something that resulted out of her allegiance with him, but is something she regrets.
> 
> Really quick, just want to clarify just like it's predecessor this fic is not a songfic, the song in the tags fits the theme of the fic is all.

Oliver knew they would end up here again, seeking one another out under the cover of darkness, hungry wild things with appetites for each other, he just never thought it would be like this…

Like any prey that had felt the sting of a predator’s teeth, he is vigilant as he anticipates her arrival. His eyes are trained on every shadow in his room, every ripple in the dark, until one becomes her. She slinks back at having been caught, her back stiff beneath his unflinching stare.

He considers playing dead, sinking limply against the mattress until she’s ready, though another part of him thinks she’d hate that more. So he waits, waits just like he has done for days and weeks for her to return. She’d been away longer than he would’ve wanted, but this  _ thing _ wasn’t exactly ideal, especially since the arrival of Ricardo Diaz. But Oliver soon forces the thought away. Eventually his patience is rewarded as she skittishly approaches the bed, a tension in her shoulders that makes him wonder who is the predator and who is the prey.

She says nothing, does nothing, sitting before him. He thinks she might speak by the way her eyes refuse to meet his, but then he knows her better. Oliver remains steadfast, unguarded for her to do as she wished. Laurel crawls closer, still suspiciously clothed as she inevitably descends upon him. Her hand at his throat forcing him down, though he goes without protest, bowing before her bared teeth.

Laurel stares down at him from her spot straddling his hips, something owlish in her gaze as she loosens the grip around his neck, shock maybe. Her fingers curl in his hair, bringing her lips down to meet his, for which Oliver has no objection. Her mouth is apologetic against his, but for the life of him, he can’t understand what she’s sorry for.

Her knee digs between his legs, not cruel, just stimulating. The friction is welcome in the face of the blinding want she stirs in him. She is greedy when she drinks up the small noise of praise he rewards her with. She is desperate. Oliver can sympathize.

His heart hammers wildly in his chest when he braces his hands against her hourglass, cautiously grinding into the friction she offers, her little waist caged in his hold. Laurel goes rigid, tensing in a way that makes him rife with fear. That was new.

Oliver sits up, not showing his belly as she tries to coax him back down, trying to wrangle him. Her eyes are suddenly wet and he hates the sight, loathes it with every cell in his body, but he doesn’t stop as he urges up the fabric of her shirt. His hands tremble as he flexes his fingers around her once more, the skin of his thumb not too callused to feel the raw shiny stamp of a burn marring her flesh.

He goes deathly still, body tense as he smooths his hand across the wound once more, looking for reassurance that it was what he feared. Laurel bucks against him, hissing between her teeth at the pressure he applies. He rips his hand away, bile burning in the back of his throat at the realization that he’d hurt her.

Then his fear is replaced with rage, ugly animalistic rage. He tears away every scrap of clothing hiding her skin from him. She beats her fists against his chest, but he’s undeterred. He needs to know, he needs to see.

The cancerous mass of hate in his chest swells when he finds more burns, marks scarring her back and thighs. Burned.  _ Branded  _ like cattle - his beautiful, wild thing. She hangs her head like something with no fight left in it, but he knows her, knows her better than he knows himself, knows she just needed a taste of something wild.

He scuffs a finger beneath her chin, the action is familiar, though he is usually on the receiving end of it. Laurel lifts her gaze, wet green eyes staring pleadingly at him. There’s something imploring in her stare that surprises him. A desperate look that shakes him to his core, it speaks everything her lips can’t.

Oliver twitches as she takes his hands in her, forcing his rough fingers to settle over the raw skin of her burns once more. He flinches, he doesn’t like hurting her, not like this, but her grip is firm. She keeps him there, broad hands splayed over the evidence of her taming. But that wasn’t it, he knew that, she didn’t ask for that, she was asking for this - asking for him.

Leaning in close Oliver finds her lips with ease, quivering at the sound she exhales against his mouth. The hate that still throbs in his chest is soon replaced by another ache, a more potent one. His hungry lips move lower, teeth grating against her skin in a way that makes her throw her head back with a gasp.

Laurel gave a grateful noise as he used his grip on her to drag her down against the burden of his want. When his thumb digs into one of her burns she writhes against him, it was clear in the way she had hidden them that she hated the marks, but she glows when he touches them. They are a part of her now, just as he is.

Oliver fits his mouth over a burn beneath her breast, he hates that it’s there, hates that someone had done this to her, but he shows it love all the same. Lashes the skin with his tongue again and again, latching his lips around the pink bud of her nipple. She runs her fingers through his hair, fluttering out a sweet dreamy sigh that he revels in. Laurel grinds down against him, making the ache throbbing in his hips all the more apparent.

Oliver sees her frown and instantly feels panic surge through him, though when she tugs at the fabric of his pajama pants, he realizes it is them she is mad at, not him. He obliges, lifting his lips so she can free him of them. He sort of kicks them off where they arrive bunched uncomfortably around his knees. Spreading his legs, Oliver settles back like a gazelle before a lioness, giddy at the thought of being devoured by her.

Laurel sinks down on him with a growl, a little electric sound that tingles down his spine as she greedily accepts him between her legs. She begins rocking her hips slowly, not gorging herself on the flesh he offers, no, she paces herself for the feast that is to come. And Oliver doesn’t mind, he lets her rock patiently in his lap as he melts limply against the bed. It is a comfort to see her returned to herself, a predator consuming her prey, in control as she should be,  _ free _ .

Warmth churns away in his stomach with each clever twist of her hips, a groan spilling from his lips as she grinds down on him a little harder. Oliver could make out the wicked crook of her grin, sharp and devious as she repeated the action, white smile illuminating the dark as he croaked out the sound once more.

His hands settle on her hips, not guiding, she knows well enough what they both need, but rather encouraging. His touch tells her to keep going, to keep taking what she wanted...that he’d always be there to give it to her.

Oliver let his palms follow the contours of her body, feeling the rough texture of raw skin as he approaches the bouncing, pliable weight of her breasts. She hums out a pleased sound, leaning into the weathered skin of his hands. Her nipples perking into points against his palms. He squeezes the flesh gently, pleased when it elicits a dreamy smile.

Laurel’s hips don’t stutter as she continues rocking against him, each roll of her body against his keeping him locked inside of her, where he ached so deeply to be. He can feel himself flex in her heat, groaning low in his throat as the elastic squeeze of her velvety walls around him.

Oliver grinned up in a daze where she fucked him so well, hips gliding in a rhythmic back and forth that has his toes curling. The heat in his stomach throbs, flowing and ebbing as it’s reach grows. He is so absorbed in her warmth, in her touch, that he flinches when it suddenly vanishes.

Opening his eyes wider, Oliver feels the dredges of panic flee from him where he sees Laurel sitting on the bed beside him. He sits up immediately, had he done something wrong? Did she want to stop? Had he hurt her, truly hurt her? He considered speaking, breaking their silence to voice his worry.

Then he sees her coy smile and rosy blush and he knows better. Oliver licks his lips, throat suddenly dry as he watches her legs fall open. A sound rumbles hungrily in his chest as she digs her fingers into the spot he had once inhabited, wet and wanting. Her grinning mouth opens with a moan as she continues to fill herself. He lurches towards her with desire, baring his teeth as Laurel nods her head in invitation. She wants him to pounce at her, lunge at her like the animal he is. She wants him to claim her the way she had claimed him time and time again in these stolen moments in the dark. Oliver had always assumed Laurel was the kind of animal that wanted to remain wild, an untamed, untouchable creature, though he could see the truth clearly in her eyes.

She settles on her back soon after, showing her belly and all her vulnerability as she mimicked the passive heap Oliver had been moments prior. Oliver feels hypnotized, trained by the dripping entrance on display - sit, stay,  _ come _ . He scrabbles forward, his knees digging into the bed as he clasps his hands on her waist. He thumbs thoughtfully at a burn on her pubic bone, slowed in his intention at the sight of it, dirtying something so beautiful. So, he dips his head down, holding her gaze as he drags his lips over the scarred over burn. 

Laurel keens something broken and desperate in response, urging him back up for a kiss. Her hands frame his face where she pushes her lips against his. It’s a warm tangle of tongues, parting when her teeth nip at his lower lip in a way that sends a thrill of heat through him.

Sitting back on his knees, Oliver drags his hands over her hips once more, grinning when she impatiently locks her slender legs around his waist. He takes the hint for what it is. Oliver aligns himself with her sinking back into her slick centre. Light blooms in his belly at the warmth he is greeted by. He rumbles a low grateful sound, arching into her when Laurel strokes a dainty palm across his chest.

He persists rolling his hips, adopting a faster pace than Laurel previously had. Despite their desperation, it doesn’t feel violent as previous encounters had. He sinks into her ease again and again, heat frothing in his belly as she flexes around him, eager to keep him where he is.

Oliver wheezes out a shaky breath as he ruts into her, holding his lover still where she bucks wildly beneath him, urging her hungry hips to meet the steady grind of his. Her blonde hair splayed against his pillow in the dark, a mist of sweat glittering on the taut sinewy of her stomach as it ripples deliciously when she arches off the bed to meet him.

The air feels charged with static and pheromones, heavy with chemicals that clogged their starved animal brains. Oliver huffs out a breath as he pushes into Laurel, hips grinding against hers as he lowers himself carefully over her. The air he breathes is shared with her, hot and intimate. She ties her limbs around his broad back and hips, keeping them joined, though Oliver prayed they would never part.

He shudders as she tightens her hold on him, molten heat constricting around him beautifully. His arms shake where they reside on either side of her head, he’s close, so close. Nothing could ever feel as good as she did.

He plunges inside of her, his thrusts purposeful and searching as he uses the blunt tip of his member to stroke that spongy spot inside of her. It’s magical as he watches Laurel whimper and huff as he continues massaging that spot with each slick glide inside of her. Each careful rotation of his hips has her heaving out desperate sounds until she goes limp, only maintaining her vice-like grip where he remains buried inside of her. He’s throbbing, aching, so eager to join her in that bliss.

Oliver whistles an exhale through his nose, leaning into the warmth of her touch where Laurel’s hand settled familiarly against his cheek. He can see her eyes, those warm green eyes, wet for different reasons than they had been earlier.

_ “Ollie-”  _ She coaxes, encouraging and warm.

The sound of her voice pushes him over that precipice, spilling into her with a long sigh, after being denied the cry of his name from her lips for so long, to hear it was transcendent. It was a soothing finish, numbing his aching nerve endings, washing over him with relief as he pumped into her.

They collapse against the bed, tangled up in each other. He feels the warmth of her breath against his neck, his hands meandering down her back, tracing vague patterns between old burns and new.

He listens intently as her breaths lighten, going shallow and eventually softening to gentle snores. Staring down at her, there is a serenity etched into her face where she resides in his arms.

Oliver smiles as he detects the glow of the rising sun peeking through the window. This time she had stayed on her own.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It's been a little bit and I have missed writing Black Siren terribly, but man did this hurt to write. Also, I tried to recreate the ambience and wild nature of the first fic, but found that I enjoyed this pacing too. 
> 
> Anyway, feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you thought of it.


End file.
